


Sweet Release

by The_Word_Witch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, bucky barnes smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Word_Witch/pseuds/The_Word_Witch
Summary: After a rough mission you realize there's something you need to say just in case next time it's too late.





	Sweet Release

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> Smut (not graphic), mentions of blood, mentions of violence, really it's just feelings. 
> 
> (I wrote this based on a cannon a friend wanted to see done about Bucky finally being ready for sex once the OC confessed their feelings.)

Your ears were still ringing from the mission. The only way things could have gone worse would be if someone had died. As it stood, Natasha was unconscious and Sam’s left leg was going to need some pins in it. Sure, you had all managed to wipe another Hydra base off the map. But… fuck.

Blood and grime turned the water swirling at your feet a sickening copper brown shade. The gash on your head would heal fast enough, no sense worrying anyone with it… could have been worse if Bucky hadn’t shielded you, his left arm catching the debris from the explosion and a volley of bullets… The whole time telling you to look at him, to not look away, that it was ok.

That look in his eyes… so scared you would lose consciousness, so determined to keep you safe. Your heart constricts. _Fuck this._ Despite still being filthy you immediately shut the water off and grab a towel to dry and wipe away what was left of the dirt, dust, and blood clinging to you.

Things had been tense between you for weeks. Neither of you was particularly adept at communication after everything you’d been through and honestly, you felt an immense amount of guilt over bringing your baggage to someone who already had a truckload of his own. Still… it took no effort to recall the way his kiss, the few fleeting times either of you had let your guard down enough to allow it, made your blood sing. Or how safe you felt curled up next to him as he told stories about his childhood. Or how your heart filled when he sang for you…

This was complicated. You knew that. But you could have lost him today. Hell, a bullet could have easily strayed as he was covering you and that would have been it. He’d be gone and not only would it have been your fault but you’d live the rest of your life knowing you had never told him.

You fling your bathroom door open, dry enough, and he’s there, perched on the edge of your bed. Frozen you stare at Bucky Barnes, still in his tac gear, filthy, elbows resting on his knees. He looks up at your naked form, lit from behind by the bathroom light, his eyes wide.

He looks away quickly, “I’m so sorry I-“

“I fucking love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” The words just tumble from you, even if you had wanted to hold them back you couldn’t have.

Forgetting propriety his eyes shoot back to you and you close the few feet between you. Standing before him you cup his rough face in your hands, “I. Love. You.” In a flash he has you wrapped in his arms, pressing your body tight against his.

You don’t care that the buckles bite into your naked skin, don’t care about anything but feeling him close to you. He buries his face on your neck. Goosebumps raise as his warm lips press against your pulse, his stubble scratching your skin.

His hot breath on your ear makes you shudder, “I love you too, doll,” he whispers and you melt. Those spectacular eyes finally meet your own, filled with love, happiness, and just a touch of fear. You had no doubt yours showed the same.

No more words are necessary.

Your lips crash together, hungry for the taste of the other. He tangles his fingers in your hair, tongue pressing past your lips, as your hands work at unfastening his gear. Thankfully, years spent in similar garments means you make quick work of it all.

Pulling back he slips the vest off and the sound of fabric tearing fills the space as he rips the black tee away with his left arm. You grab the waist of his pants and spin him around so you can sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes bore into your own as you unbuckle his belt and slide both the pants and boxers over his hip bones. Before you can move to take him into your mouth he grabs your chin.

“No,” he rasps, “I want _you._ ” You can’t help the smile that rises to your lips and you slide back onto the king bed as he slips free of his boots and pants.

He presses a kiss on your left ankle, then your calf, metal hand slowly sliding up your right side. You lose yourself in the feeling of his mouth covering you with kisses before he finally hovers above you, lips lighting over your forehead, your eyes, your cheeks, and finally your lips.

“Say it again,” his voice is warm but rough with desire.

“I love you, Buck-”

He catches your mouth before you can even finish his name and you feel the length of him enter you. A rumble comes from his chest as your body arches to meet him, legs wrapping around his hips, wanting to feel all of him. Breaking the kiss he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back down into you. You cry out, the ache so sweet, and claw at his biceps.

Bracing himself with his left arm next to your head he begins to fuck you slow and deep, your bodies fitting together perfectly like you were made for one another. It doesn’t take long for desire to tighten at the base of your abdomen. Your breath catching, you begin to urge your rhythm faster.

“Bucky,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him to you.

“Not yet,” his eyes are shining, “wait for me.” You bite your lip hard, trying to hold back. A smirk plays at his lips, “Goddamn,” he breathes. His brows knit, his pace speeds up.

“Fuck,” you cry.

“Now,” he says as he catches your moan with a kiss. Your muffled sounds of pleasure are the best music, bodies shuddering with much-deserved release. He goes slack against you and rests his forehead on your own. For a moment you simply stare into the other’s eyes.

He slides off of you and immediately pulls you to him. Your head resting on his right shoulder body pressed to his side. His metal hand caresses your cheek as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You should both definitely shower, should maybe talk about all of this, what it means and where you go from here. All of that flees your mind however when he tilts your head up a bit to look at him.

“I love you, Y/N.”

And you realize, nothing else matters. You have each other. The rest will fall into place.


End file.
